A Slender Man
by Eonneo
Summary: Even the worst of the worst that exist have a reason for their wickedness. What was Slender Man's?


Shouting. Loud shouting. Crashing. Glass crashing. Violence. So much violence.

I huddled closer onto my bed, gripping my pillow with fear pounding in my heart. Tears came close to forming in my eyes, my body shaking. Another sound of fracturing glass echoed through the house like ear-splitting screams, causing me to jump slightly even with the fact they were not in my room. I gulped hard, attempting to hide my fears and terror and tears - but failed as I started to sob.

Why was I like this now? This was not the first and - to my horror - not the last time these acts would happen. My mother's boyfriend was a malevolent being, his heart colder than ice and sub-zero temperature and his soul ten times hotter than the pits of Hell and the surface of the sun. His personality and words lashed out at every individual that dared oppose him like a snake, quickly spitting its venom into the bloodstream of individuals who ventured too far into its territory.

Boom! My heart pumped out of my chest. A gun? Was that a gun? The sobbing stopped in my throat in a quick gasp. I felt like puking, curling up under the blanket to avoid a twisted fate. There was screaming outside. My mother's screaming? Why? Boom! There it was again. The sound blasted through the thin walls, vibrating in my head like I had just been hit with bricks when unharmed. What was going on?

"Erica! Erica, get out!" someone - my mom? - screeched. What? Get out? Why would I have to get out of my own house? BOOM! It was louder this time. Was it, indeed, a gun? Ending the life of one of the quarreling individuals outside my wooden door? Or was it something much less dangerous and my mind was playing horrid tricks? Either way, my mother told me to get out and I knew I had to listen. But how would I escape? If I dared to leave my room, Derek would throw a fit.

Thump. Thump. Thump. There was a loud beating against my door, two fists pumping against it. Who was there? I was still too paralyzed by my fear to answer, more sobs caught in my throat. Thump!

"Erica! Get out here. We're leaving!" It was my mom. She was okay. I did not choose argue or ask questions. I practically bounced off my bed, my feet stumbling on the carpet as I blindly walked through my dark bedroom, groping like a zombie to find the door. I unlocked it and opened it, my mother's face twisted into a mix of sadness and anger, her blonde hair in strands around her face. Light poured in from the living room. I attempted to look past my mother's figure, trying to see the damage, but she was grabbing my arm, rushing me out.

I barely had time to get my sandles before I nearly passed out at the sight of blood mixed into the yellow carpet. As my eyes followed the splatters I had to keep my dinner down at the sight of Derek on the ground. Was he dead? No, he was breathing? I couldn't analyze it as I followed my mother outside, the night air nipping my near bare skin. My pajamas were not warming, but I was not able to get a coat, my mother bent on getting out.

Off in the distance I could see the city, bright and almost welcoming. While on the other side of my house sat a forest, dark and taunting. Two opposites right next to each other. It was confusing to me, yet so familiar as I saw the same situation day by day with my mother and her boyfriend. So violent and evil and cruel was he and yet...so quiet and calm and understanding was my mother. They were nothing alike; just like the forest and the city.

My mother had not told me where to go but I knew - I felt - we were going to the car. Getting out of there. Or we were until Derrek's tall and terrifying figure appeared at the doorway, a limp in his gate and a gun in his hand. I quickly glanced over to my mother, who could only stare in fright at the sight. I would've been staring in horror, too, had I known what was about to happen.

"Fuck. You're just going to leave me here? Fuck!" Obscenities were yelled one after the other by Derek, but that did not bother me. I had said them before. What bothered me - disturbed me - was when I heard the first round of the gun shot hit the glass of the car windshield. It shattered, splaying a few pieces into the air. I knew others heard it as well, our neighborhood small. What was I going to do? Die? Help my mother?  
"Eric, go. Go now," my mother demanded, shooing at me to go. Go anywhere. Anywhere but there. And I did. I took one last look at the two, my mother now small and puny under Derrek's harsh figure. I had never seen her like that. It was hopefully the last time I would see her in that position as I ran past the house, another shot ringing into the night.

I ran. And ran. And ran. Past the house. Into the forest. Past all the trees, which loomed over me like monsters wanting to devour me. Their branches grabbed onto my clothing, wanting to keep me in their clutches for eternity. One branch scraped my skin, causing a throbbing pain to begin. I ignored it, dragging myself further through the beasts of trees, the beasts of the forest, and further away from my home and the safety of the city.

I ran and ran and ran and ran until my legs hurt. Until I no longer heard the noises of the city - of my mother in a useless battle against Derrek. I ran until I could hardly breathe. I ran until I nearly fell over in exhaustion, my back arching against the bark of a tree, legs throbbing and dabbed with sweat. I fell to the ground, tiredness ebbing at my limbs and my head and my emotions.

Though, even with these feelings, my conscious was bothered. I curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees. I felt like I was in a movie. This was how it always happened. The little kid had problems at home, but never told anyone because they were backwards. I was not backwards, nor shy, nor anti-social. I loved people and to talk to people and to interact with people. I just never spoke up due to the lack of times it was called for. Life was hard, but others had it harder.

Like my mother. Why had I not stayed with her? Instead of staying and helping her, I ran. Like a wimp. While my mother was left to fend for herself. How could I do that? My mother would have stayed to save me had I been in her position. She would have done anything within her small range of power to make sure I was safe. And here I was. Running. Letting her deal with death. What kind of daughter was I?

A horrible one. One who didn't deserve a mother like the one she had. One who deserved a life in the forest. Without a home. Without good food. A warm bed. A loving mother. The only thing missing would be her true father who was somewhere in the world. Happy with the fact he didn't have a wife to bother with nor a kid to worry about. How lucky he was to have such an easy life, while my mother and I were here. Stuck in an eternal, no-winner battle of good and evil. How lucky he was.

I clenched my hands into tight fists, my hands turning white from the pressure. I took deep breaths and attempted to gather my new surroundings. The trees. The rocks. The grass. I glanced upward. The sky. The clear and quiet sky betrayed the violent land in which it hovered over. This was not the only terrible event happening tonight. I knew it wasn't. Many other kids had to be dealing with worse. Starving. Beaten. Left for dead. Never having a true home, having been taken from their family long before getting to know them. And yet there was the sky. Dancing overhead with its twinkling stars as if to lead on the world in a false sense of kindness.

What was there to do? Go home? Did I even have a home? Did I even have a mother left? These thoughts ate at my brain like tiny parasites ate at dead flesh. Maybe my brain was dead flesh, a useless hunk of meat sitting in my skull. I knew this to be true for if I were smart, I would have stayed to help my mother. I would have done more. But instead I ran.

I was still contemplating my current situation and my next move when I heard something nearby. It was more than just an animal - I had heard the noises animals made before. It was not just a sound of wind - the wind was quieter than a feather falling to the floor. I did not feel it graze my skin like an old friend would. There was something close around, creeping in the area. Watching me? Watching a prey I did not see? Either way, something was there. I could feel it and hear it.

And with another sound of rustling in the forest, I could see it.


End file.
